Lioness Arising
by matsujunchann
Summary: She should have been relieved, but there was a terror welling up in her she couldn't suppress. A rising dark lord was out there and she was the only one with the knowledge to stop him.
1. Hisses in the dark

Author's Note:

Hey there readers. As you've probably noticed, this is a time-travel story. I know right?! Anyway, this will be a rather long story, with an original plot in which both Hermione and Tom are the main characters. So I hope you will stick around!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter and all its contents belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling.**

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**Lioness Arising.**

**Chapter I**

_Hisses in the Dark._

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The cold wind was shrieking through the narrow passage, piercing right through her dark cloak. Hermione Granger pulled the long cloak closer around her shivering body and glanced anxiously at the dark streets. There was a shadow lurking within her, a strong impression of danger. She had tried to ignore the nagging feeling but with no success.

A noise captured her attention and, frowning, she swung her head around. She held her wand firmly and glared at the silent unperturbed streets. A small part of her wanted to quickly apparate away but she held her ground.

"I need to do this," she declared confidently, a challenge of her own.

Her brows creased as she walked down the dimly lit pavement. The anonymous letter in her right pocket seemed to weight heavier as time went by. Sicknesses took over her when she realised that they might not be able to forgive her for what she was about to do. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. With Albus Dumbledore's death, they had lost the Ministry of Magic to Lord Voldemort and his followers. Muggle-borns and supporters had been forced to go into hiding since fighting a long lost battle was no longer an option.

They had lost so many to the cause and at what cost? Hermione's heart throbbed painfully as Ron's pale features flashed before her. After their best-friend's death, Harry began changing. He started preaching about how the dark arts were the only way to beat Lord Voldemort at his own game.

She realised that the mourning period was over. She didn't have time to cry her friends and family. Harry needed her and she would do whatever it took to bring her friend back from the darkness.

Hermione halted in front of what used to be a grandiose house. What used to be a beautiful garden had now transformed into a wild maze of tall bushes and weeds. Some walls were still holding up as though they were refusing to crumble down along with the rest of the house. She could see what might have been the living room. Slowly, the Gryffindor glanced around and then when she was satisfied that no one was watching; she made her way inside. She flicked her wand, forcing the bushes and wildflowers out of her way.

Shivering, she made her way inside. The tattered woodened floor screeched at the sudden contact, forcing her to be extra careful. Tears welled up in her eyes. Their entire future could have been entirely different if Lord Voldemort didn't exist. The house would still be standing; Harry would have a home and a family. Ron would live.

Hermione hurried forward, ignoring the dark hisses clouding her head that tried to make her vacillate. She had been warned repeatedly of the danger, but she had no choice. Somewhere up ahead of her was the only thing that might save them all. She had sacrificed everything to get here, and she would not turn back now.

Then it appeared out of nowhere -the familiar silver-white colour of the patronus charm. She held her breath as the corporeal form stabilized into a solid form of a doe. She could feel her heart in her throat.

"Miss Granger."

The familiar voice startled her even though she had prepared herself. She tried to keep her face clear from any conflicting emotions but then remembered that Professor Snape could not see her.

"It's time."

The doe gracefully moved across the room, its light illuminated the way for her. Clenching tightly to her wand, she did as she was asked to. She followed Professor's Snape Patronus across the room and then gasped as she watched the doe jump into the ruined wall and disappeared completely from her sight. At first, she panicked. Thoughts of a trap rang in her mind but she quickly dismissed them. Had death eaters been there, they would have been able to kill her on the spot.

Hermione swallowed hard as she made her way to the wall, at least what was left of it. She tapped her wand against it and then glared at it with a fierce determination.

"Reducto."

The wall exploded before her eyes. She felt a speck of wood brush against her cheek, enough to graze it. Breathing heavily, Hermione looked ahead to find the most elegant golden box lying on the floor, completely unscattered. Shuddering, the bushy-haired witch knelt down. Slowly, she opened the box and stared in a mix of awe and fear at the familiar time-turner. She picked the object carefully as memories of her third-year haunted her. If this worked, she'd be able to save Sirius Black too. An old piece of parchment caught her attention. She unfolded it and read the two only words, "Good Luck."

A dread feeling took over her. There was no turning back now.

Tears fell down her tired features as her full attention went back to the time-turner. She could feel that the object was charged with a strange magic. She stared down at it for a while as she silently cried into the night. This was it. There would be no good-byes.

She told herself that she was doing what she had to. There was no other way.

As she twisted the hourglass, she began to feel slightly disoriented, as if the earth shimmered and twisted, as if something better left alone awakened. With renewed fury the wind slashed and tore at her forcing her to shut her eyes. Her heart began to pound so loud it was thunder in her ears.

As the wind ceased, she reopened her eyes. She had made it. She should have been relieved, but there was a terror welling up in her she couldn't suppress. She had done what had been said impossible.

Still slightly disorientated, Hermione pushed herself to her feet. She then noticed that she was standing on a small park. She noticed how the streets looked different. There were less houses and more green spaces. The witch concluded that the Potter's house were yet to be built.

Panic rushed through her as she looked down at the hourglass, it was falling apart. She shook her head as that didn't matter anymore. She knew she was not supposed to return. She knew that she was about to change the entire future time-line. Determination ran through her veins as she apparated away.

The three broomsticks looked like it always did. Only there was no Madam Rosmerta running it. In her place stood a bald old looking man, "Here's the keys, lass. Remember, I expect to find the room spotless, got it?"

"Yes, I understand." She hissed in annoyance as she took the keys from him. She turned around and walked towards the stairs when she stopped dead on her tracks. She reached for the abandoned daily prophet on the table and took it upstairs.

Once inside the room, she allowed herself to sit down on the worn cushioned dark chair. She fumbled through the newspaper and then her eyes scanned the sought contents.

November, 12th 1944.

She took a deep calming breath. She had hoped for an earlier date – she had hoped to stop Lord Voldemort's mother to ever give birth. That had been her plan. Now she had to adjust it.

She reached for her bag and summoned a piece of parchment.

"To Albus Dumbledore." She read aloud as she carried on scribbling, "My name is Hermione Granger…"

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Tom Riddle's eyes were lit with excitement as the entrance finally revealed itself to him. He didn't remember to be this excited since he discovered the Chambers of Secrets. The Chamber was rightful his, it was a part of his legacy. But this… this was an invasion.

Huge lion heads were carved on the great double doors. The eyes were staring fiercely, daring any trespasser to come any closer.

His lips curved into a smirk.

Now it was only a matter of time. He would eventually find a way to break through Godric's Gryffindor's doors.

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**A/N: Oh so you've reached this far? Thank you so much for reading! It really means a lot to me. Please do review. I'd love to have some feedback.**


	2. II

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter and all its contents belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling.**

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**Lioness Arising.**

**Chapter II**

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Hermione quietly shut the door behind her, holding her breath and waiting fearfully. Her stomach had wound itself into knots, her heart pounded annoyingly in her chest. So loud, in fact, that she was surprised it hadn't woken up the entire three-broomstick's inn. Once satisfied that she had managed to come outside unnoticed, she allowed herself to release her breath. Wrapping her cloak tighter around her body, she walked in a hurry. She dared to look back at the inn. No suspicious lights or shadows had appeared in the past thirty seconds. So far, so good.

To say that she was nervous was an understatement. She realized now, that sending that letter to Albus Dumbledore might have been a mistake. She had no way to know how a younger version of her headmaster would react to such shocking news, especially when a stranger revealed to possess knowledge of his past; a past he had worked so hard to conceal from prying eyes. Yet, a part of her hoped that the man she used to look up to would help her. And if he didn't… then all her plans would go to waste. With a heavy sigh, she pushed her negative thoughts away and finally disapparated.

So here she found herself, walking through the risky, dark streets of the Knockturn Alley, head tipped high as she walked along. Hermione wasn't afraid, not like she used to be, of the risks of this place. Still, she remained cautious of her surroundings. She was quick to notice that the streets lights were conveniently turned off. She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her predicament. She knew that something was off when Albus Dumbledore himself suggested that they should meet here of all places. She clutched tightly to her wand as she walked silently through the dark streets.

Suddenly a gruffly voice seemed to whisper, 'constant vigilance' in her ears. She straightened up, her eyes wide as she heard the distinct sound of footsteps. A cold tingle ran up Hermione's spine as she whirled around at the sound of another pair of footsteps.

"Who's there?" she asked, grateful that her voice had come out intact.

A red streak of light broke through the darkness and it came towards her mercilessly. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead as she raised a bright blue shield. The shield vacillated but in the end it held strong against the unknown curse. She considered using 'lumos' but decided against it seeing that it would only make her an easier target. Biting down on her lower lip, she wondered what the hell was going on.

Another red light, this time not one but two curses flew at her from opposite directions. Gasping, Hermione threw herself on the pavement, wincing when her shoulder cracked with the impact. With a glare, she scrambled back to her feet.

"I can do this," she hissed fiercely.

There was nothing scarier than facing an unknown enemy. Suddenly, her world came crashing down when she saw his silhouette. He was just as tall as she remembered. Her brave façade vanished as his ominous blue eyes captured her brown ones.

"P-professor…?" she started meekly. A part of her felt somewhat relieved to see him again. Even if she wasn't used to the way he looked. He was still the man she would come to know in the future, right? And another part chanted in her head, _"Wrong."_

"Miss Granger, I presume?" his voice was not as gentle and comforting like she remembered. His voice carried a mix of danger and another element she could not yet identify.

Hermione swallowed hard. Albus Dumbledore was not alone and whoever had come with him was still hiding in the dark. She wanted to hit herself repeatedly. She should have seen this coming. It was only natural that a man like Dumbledore would see her as a threat. She was from the future and her mere existence in this time was simply too dangerous.

"Yes," despite her delicate situation, her voice came out with confidence, "Hermione Granger, sir. Though, I must say I expected to meet you under different circumstances."

The man did not grace her with a response. Instead, he shook and a loud growl escaped his thin lips. Unconsciously, the bushy-haired witch stalked forward, her features displaying genuine concern, "Professor? Sir?" She halted immediately when she noticed the way the man shrunk, his shoulders stretched and his robes ripped as his chest grew forward. His long auburn hair was now black and short. First, she was assaulted with a wave of absolute disorientation but then everything fell into place. Of course, Albus Dumbledore himself would never set foot into Knockturn Alley.

Taking no chances, she pointed her wand at the stranger before her, "Who are you?"

"We've been asked to escort you," a female voice spoke from behind her.

Quickly, Hermione whirled around; her wand undecided between the two strangers. She took a step back, "Escort me where exactly?"

"To Albus Dumbledore," The male replied flatly.

"We needed to make sure you were alone," the man's companion spoke in a gentle nature. She offered Hermione a smile, "I'm Augusta," She added in a cheerful tone as she lowered her wand.

The man scowled, "Longbottom, be quiet," he said calmly despite the clear annoyed look on his face.

Augusta scowled back at him, "Dunning, I'm cold and hungry. The girl poses no threat so can we go now? Dumbledore is waiting."

A sudden glare made its way to Hermione's features, "We shouldn't keep him waiting any longer."

Both aurors looked back at the young girl with identical quizzical looks stamped on their faces - both had silently wondered what the old man could possibly want with the girl but he had insisted it was too dangerous to disclose the secret with them. Dunning noticed the way Augusta shivered when Hermione's gaze fell on his team mate. Augusta was known for her fierce attitude. There was not a single time he remembered watching the woman's defence crumble down like this.

"Yes, let's not make him wait." Dunning said without a trace of emotion.

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The wind swept across the tall trees, the leaves dancing along in a fantastical dervish. On the damp ground, the fallen splattered leaves seemed to rise upwards, taken against their will in eddying whirlwinds, the faint light of the moon glimmered by short moments the path ahead, before it was lost in the oppressive darkness that the clouds above supplied. A faint stirring on the muddy path broke through the soft moans of the wind and two masked figures stepped forwards into the warmth of the moonlight. The dark cloaks plus the mask on their face and the tattoo on their upper arm would be famously known in years to come.

The one wearing the owl looking mask was clearly a female; it was obvious by her long curly blond-hair and the slender shape of her body. Her partner, the vulture looking mask had short blond hair and walked behind her. Every now and then he looked around their surroundings making sure that they hadn't been followed. They suddenly came to a stop staring at the clearing field in expectation. Then in a single, fluid movement, she knelt down on the weathered grass, lowering her head forward, as though in a display of subjugation to the upcoming storm.

For a while she rested, her body trembling with nerves or simply from the gelid cold that reached her bones. Nevertheless, through it all she remained impassive, her slender frame impervious and resilient, utterly majestic. In addition, it was something expected from a Knight of Walpurgis.

Her partner watched her in silence. His senses still alert to what was around them, trying to feel something, a step, a whisper, anything that would immediately tell him that someone had seen them or if someone was there hidden somewhere. He remained firm as a stone, a statue, purely focused on keeping his guard up.

Small droplets of rain greeted them at the same time. Their heads jerked towards the sound of heavy footsteps.

There he was, right in the middle. Beside him, stood two other knights, their mask were blank, probably to hide their identity. Nothing on them gave away their intentions. A closer look told them that there was more, hidden between the trees, taking advantage of the darkness and of the rain.

They shifted their attention to the figure that was standing in the middle. The blonde-haired female bowed respectful and she waited for her partner to do the same. The male suppressed a displeasured growl and bowed his head too.

Tom Riddle smirked as he watched the boy bow before him. There he was, Abraxas Malfoy, son of one of the most influential families. Funny, how the idiotic boy had vowed never to acknowledge him as the righteous heir of Slytherin was now his most recent servant.

"Where is it?"

"My Lord…" The female started, discreetly sparing a worried look at her partner, "The sword is too heavily warded…"

The head boy quickly turned around, "You know what to do." He told the other two knights close to him. Yawning, Tom Riddle made his way to the castle finding comfort in the painful screams behind him.

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Her brown eyes stopped on the familiar house. Shivers ran down her spine as memories came swirling back to her. Bathilda Bagshot's house was not a particular good memory but it was one that she immediately forced away. Ignoring the curious looks that both Aurors were giving her, she stalked forward and knocked on the door. The door opened revealing Albus Dumbledore at last – his blue twinkling eyes were beaming.

"Ah Miss Granger! Please do come in," as soon as he stepped aside, the two aurors disapparated; their delivery was completed.

A relieved sigh escaped from the witch's lips when she was greeted with a completely different house. The walls were covered with portraits and old photographs. She noticed a very large clock in the shape of a full moon with brooms as pointers. She stopped in the middle of the living room where rocking chairs were rocking by themselves. There was tea ready on the table and a closed daily prophet on one of the couches.

"It looks quite different since I was last here," she spoke as he came to stand before her.

"Ah, were you acquainted with Miss Bagshot then?" He asked while he motioned her to take a seat. He then proceeded to sit down as well and began stirring the tea, "Milk? Sugar?"

"Sir. _Please_." She set her hands on her lap, her fingernails clutching to her legs. Tears threatened to fall. She had promised her not to get emotional but it was such a hard task to achieve. Surely it was okay to break down just once, right? She lowered her head and tried to breath in evenly.

Albus straightened up in his seat, the tea forgotten on the table, "Miss Granger, you are a clever witch. You know the danger you pose to me – to everyone – in this time," he paused watching as her shoulders shot up and down as she lost control, "Yet, after I read your letter… I decided to help you but under one important condition."

Her head shot up and her teary hopeful eyes met his. "Anything, sir…"

His hand went to his long cloak where he withdrew a small vial. Her eyes widened in understanding. With shaky hands, she reached for the vial. As she wrapped her hand around it, she felt a wave of sickness claw at her stomach.

"_We_ have little time, Miss Granger." He told her gravely, "Let us make it count."

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"She made into Gryffindor." The whisper was overly loud and mixed with sheer curiosity and excitement. Tom Riddle couldn't decide which. He'd been hearing the same gossip for several hours and it was always said in the same hushed tones. He hated to admit to curiosity and he wasn't about to stoop to asking, not after he had made such a point of insisting on absolute privacy. Besides, it was his fault. He shouldn't have skipped breakfast.

As a head boy, he had the privileges to know all the gossip before everyone else did. However, this time he and the head-girl had been completely oblivious to this sudden transfer student – Hermione Granger.

The name shouldn't carry mystery, but it did.

All day he had heard the whispers. He'd never once caught a glimpse of the mysterious Hermione Granger. But he'd heard some idiotic Hufflepuff say she was from an incredibly rich pure-blooded family. He snorted to himself, he had never once heard of the Grangers.

He strolled down the hallway with grace and pride. On his right side, a short-haired girl followed him with ease. She was quietly singing to herself, knowing too well that her partner was not very fond of talking. Not as much as she was, anyway. "Oh! Look Tom!" She clumsily elbowed his left side, "the transfer student!"

Tom scowled down at her, his dark eyes meeting her brown beaming ones. Why did he put up with such an accident-prone child? Oh right, her parents were very well-known within the wizardry world. Besides, she was quite easier to manipulate than the others. He looked away from her, his gaze stopping on the transfer student. Filthy Gryffindors all around her. She was smiling at something that idiotic Zack Wood was saying and then she said something in return earning laughter and smiles from everyone around her.

Then she turned her head and her eyes met his.

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A/N: HEHE Cliffie! There will be more Tom and Hermione on the next chapter and I am already working on it! WOOT WOOT :D

Omgosh any Thor Fans out there? Have you watched the new movies trailer? GAWD What of Loki's hair! oesoljjsdkfklaç! Enough said. Anyway Please review! Reviews make me happy! :D


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